Read Three Plays for Free Online Page B
Authors: Tennessee Williams
in his memory to the church at Two Rivers? A complete new stone parish-house with a basketball court in the basement and a—
BIG DADDY [uttering a loud barking laugh which is far from truly mirthful] : Hey, Preach! What's all this talk about memorials, Preach? Y' think somebody's about t' kick off around here? 'S that it?
[Startled by this interjection, Reverend Tooker decides to laugh at the question almost as loud as he can. How he would answer the question we'll never know, as he's spared that embarrassment by the voice of Gooper's wife, Mae, rising high and clear as she appears with Doc' Baugh, the family doctor, through the hall door.]
MAE [almost religiously] : —Let's see now, they've had their tyyy -phoid shots, and their tetanus shots, their diphtheria shots and their hepatitis shots and their polio shots, they got those shots every month from May through September, and—Gooper? Hey! Gooper!—What all have the kiddies been shot faw?
MARGARET [overlapping a bit] : Turn on the Hi-Fi, Brick! Let's have some music t' start off th' party with!
[The talk becomes so general that the room sounds like a great aviary of chattering birds. Only Brick remains unengaged, leaning upon the liquor cabinet with his faraway smile, an ice cube in a paper napkin with which he now and then rubs his forehead. He doesn't respond to Margaret's command. She bounds forward and stoops over the instrument panel of the console.]
GOOPER : We gave 'em that thing for a third anniversary present, got three speakers in it.
[The room is suddenly blasted by the climax of a Wagnerian opera or a Beethoven symphony.]
BIG DADDY : Turn that damn thing off!
[Almost instant silence, almost instantly broken by the shouting charge of Big Mama, entering through hall door like a charging rhino.]
BIG MAMA : Wha's my Brick, wha's mah precious baby!!
BIG DADDY : Sorry! Turn it back on!
[Everyone laughs very loud. Big Daddy is famous for his jokes at Big Mama's expense, and nobody laughs louder at these jokes than Big Mama herself, though sometimes they're pretty cruel and Big Mama has to pick up or fuss with something to cover the hurt that the loud laugh doesn't quite cover. On this occasion, a happy occasion, because the dread in her heart has also been lifted by the false report on Big Daddy's condition, she giggles, grotesquely, coyly, in Big Daddy's direction and bears down upon Brick, all very quick and alive.]
BIG MAMA : Here he is, here's my precious baby! What's that you've got in your hand? You put that liquor down, son, your hand was made fo' holdin' somethin' better than that!
GOOPER : Look at Brick put it down!
[Brick has obeyed Big Mama by draining the glass and handing it to her. Again everyone laughs, some high, some low.]
BIG MAMA : Oh, you bad boy, you, you're my bad little boy. Give Big Mama a kiss, you bad boy, you!—Look at him shy away, will you? Brick never liked bein' kissed or made a fuss over, I guess because he's always had too much of it! Son, you turn that thing off!
[Brick has switched on the TV set.]
I can't stand T V, radio was bad enough but TV has gone it one better, I mean—[ Plops wheeling in chair ]—one worse, ha ha! Now what'm I sittin' down here faw? I want t' sit next to my sweetheart on the sofa, hold hands with him and love him up a little!
[Big Mama has on a black and white figured chiffon. The large irregular patterns, like the markings of some massive animal, the luster of her great diamonds and many pearls, the brilliants set in the silver frames of her glasses, her riotous voice, booming laugh, have dominated the room since she entered. Big Daddy has been regarding her with a steady grimace of chronic annoyance.]
BIG MAMA [still louder] : Preacher, Preacher, hey, Preach! Give me you' hand an' help me up from this chair!
REVEREND TOOKER : None of your tricks, Big Mama!
BIG MAMA : What tricks? You give me you' hand
BIG DADDY [uttering a loud barking laugh which is far from truly mirthful] : Hey, Preach! What's all this talk about memorials, Preach? Y' think somebody's about t' kick off around here? 'S that it?
[Startled by this interjection, Reverend Tooker decides to laugh at the question almost as loud as he can. How he would answer the question we'll never know, as he's spared that embarrassment by the voice of Gooper's wife, Mae, rising high and clear as she appears with Doc' Baugh, the family doctor, through the hall door.]
MAE [almost religiously] : —Let's see now, they've had their tyyy -phoid shots, and their tetanus shots, their diphtheria shots and their hepatitis shots and their polio shots, they got those shots every month from May through September, and—Gooper? Hey! Gooper!—What all have the kiddies been shot faw?
MARGARET [overlapping a bit] : Turn on the Hi-Fi, Brick! Let's have some music t' start off th' party with!
[The talk becomes so general that the room sounds like a great aviary of chattering birds. Only Brick remains unengaged, leaning upon the liquor cabinet with his faraway smile, an ice cube in a paper napkin with which he now and then rubs his forehead. He doesn't respond to Margaret's command. She bounds forward and stoops over the instrument panel of the console.]
GOOPER : We gave 'em that thing for a third anniversary present, got three speakers in it.
[The room is suddenly blasted by the climax of a Wagnerian opera or a Beethoven symphony.]
BIG DADDY : Turn that damn thing off!
[Almost instant silence, almost instantly broken by the shouting charge of Big Mama, entering through hall door like a charging rhino.]
BIG MAMA : Wha's my Brick, wha's mah precious baby!!
BIG DADDY : Sorry! Turn it back on!
[Everyone laughs very loud. Big Daddy is famous for his jokes at Big Mama's expense, and nobody laughs louder at these jokes than Big Mama herself, though sometimes they're pretty cruel and Big Mama has to pick up or fuss with something to cover the hurt that the loud laugh doesn't quite cover. On this occasion, a happy occasion, because the dread in her heart has also been lifted by the false report on Big Daddy's condition, she giggles, grotesquely, coyly, in Big Daddy's direction and bears down upon Brick, all very quick and alive.]
BIG MAMA : Here he is, here's my precious baby! What's that you've got in your hand? You put that liquor down, son, your hand was made fo' holdin' somethin' better than that!
GOOPER : Look at Brick put it down!
[Brick has obeyed Big Mama by draining the glass and handing it to her. Again everyone laughs, some high, some low.]
BIG MAMA : Oh, you bad boy, you, you're my bad little boy. Give Big Mama a kiss, you bad boy, you!—Look at him shy away, will you? Brick never liked bein' kissed or made a fuss over, I guess because he's always had too much of it! Son, you turn that thing off!
[Brick has switched on the TV set.]
I can't stand T V, radio was bad enough but TV has gone it one better, I mean—[ Plops wheeling in chair ]—one worse, ha ha! Now what'm I sittin' down here faw? I want t' sit next to my sweetheart on the sofa, hold hands with him and love him up a little!
[Big Mama has on a black and white figured chiffon. The large irregular patterns, like the markings of some massive animal, the luster of her great diamonds and many pearls, the brilliants set in the silver frames of her glasses, her riotous voice, booming laugh, have dominated the room since she entered. Big Daddy has been regarding her with a steady grimace of chronic annoyance.]
BIG MAMA [still louder] : Preacher, Preacher, hey, Preach! Give me you' hand an' help me up from this chair!
REVEREND TOOKER : None of your tricks, Big Mama!
BIG MAMA : What tricks? You give me you' hand
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